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(12/03/09 5:23am)
When I was a freshman, my Intro to Sociology professor began a lecture with the following question: “By a show of hands, how many of you agree with the statement ‘I am a feminist?’” In a room of over 100 students, only three hands went up. Mine wasn’t one of them.
(11/19/09 4:53am)
The term supergroup has never been more applicable than in the case of Them Crooked Vultures, formed in 2005 by John Paul Jones from Led Zeppelin, Josh Homme from Queens of the Stone Age and Dave Grohl from Foo Fighters and Nirvana. TCV’s self-titled debut contains track after track of rock 'n' roll like it hasn’t been played in years. This adventurous new take on heavy metal is guaranteed to get index fingers and pinkies back into devil horn position, heads banging and air guitars pumped up to maximum volume.
(11/11/09 3:30am)
At first glance, More Than Just Ice Cream, located in the heart of the Gayborhood, seems more like just ice cream. Catering to take-out customers, the sparsely furnished storefront displays an impressive range of homemade flavors in two glass freezers. Patrons waiting for their frozen treats sit on benches against floor-to-ceiling windows, which span the front of this Washington Square establishment. In search of “more,” we follow a small sign to the café section, hidden behind a low wall and a potted palm tree.
(07/30/09 2:57am)
Summer tends to be a time for less-than-stimulating internships and the alarmingly rapid decay of one’s ability to think critically. But why waste your last remaining bulk-pack free weeks on “beach reads?” For a gift that really keeps on giving, try one of these gargantuan novels instead!
(07/30/09 2:57am)
Summer tends to be a time for less-than-stimulating internships and the alarmingly rapid decay of one’s ability to think critically. But why waste your last remaining bulk-pack free weeks on “beach reads?” For a gift that really keeps on giving, try one of these gargantuan novels instead!
(07/23/09 2:44am)
As part of a never-ending quest to deliver new music into the waiting hands of our readers, Street followed the noise all the way to Chicago last weekend for the first two days of the Pitchfork Music Festival.
(06/17/09 11:44pm)
It’s been a tough road for this year’s Popped! Festival, which brought big names like Vampire Weekend and The Ting Tings to Drexel last June.
(05/28/09 5:17am)
Here’s everything you need to know about May music (but were afraid to ask while we were on hiatus this month):
(04/23/09 5:25am)
With lead vocals (Eddie Argos) reminiscent of Bobby “BORIS” Pickett’s hit tune “Monster Mash,” and Hold Steady’s Craig Finn, rhymes like “satisfaction” and “can’t stop scratchin’” and subject matter ranging from using a cell phone as an alarm clock while riding public transportation to looking for missing socks, it might be hard to for anyone to believe that Frank Black produced Art Brut vs. Satan. But in this third album from Britain’s punk rock Art Brut, those skeptics are “Satan.”
(04/16/09 2:43am)
As the old saying goes, there are four things that every true musician needs: a former member of 98 Degrees as a brother-in-law, lip service from Ryan Cabrera, a very, very loving father and a reality show. Unfortunately for Ashlee Simpson, the last factor on the list revealed a complete inability to sing, in ways that even Autobiography, a failed Orange Bowl performance and a Saturday Night Live disaster could not.
(04/09/09 2:53am)
What’s wrong with kids today? It’s a question that has followed us from our jelly shoe-clad childhoods, to our MTV/TRL/TGIF loving adolescence, to our Not-Penn-State and definitely Not-Berkeley-circa-1960 University of Pennsylvania. Try as we may to cover College Green with bottles and flags and other objects so small that people look on in awe at the amount of work put into implementing such a task, the truth is that the closest we come to a student movement may be dragging our hungover bodies to the Spring Fling concert each year. This year, however, anyone looking to dispel accusations of on-campus apathy — or just looking to not get molested — would be better off staying home.
(03/26/09 12:20am)
After six days of training in Maryland, one month of “freedomizing” lesson plans, and three days of Trading Spaces-esque classroom setup, I donned my uniform t-shirt and boarded the 10 Trolley West. With two other interns I got off at 54th St., skipped past the corner store that would soon provide lunch for $1 a day, past the water ice stand that would cool us down when the Philly heat became unbearable and through the doors of Shaw Middle School. For the rest of the summer, this would be home.
Philadelphia Freedom Schools (PFS) is more than a summer school. It is a movement that tries to motivate the youth of Philadelphia to make meaningful changes in themselves, their communities and society at large. Using books that reflect the life experiences of a child growing up in Philadelphia and lessons on the African American struggle, the curriculum helps PFS scholars build intellectual, cultural and civic capacity. As an intern, I had the privilege of working with 12 of these soon-to-be empowered scholars.
Seion, an incoming sixth grader, was the first one I met.
“I’m Sister Charlotte and you’re in my class!” I said.
“Yo, your smile is corny,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Let’s get this straight: I don’t want to talk to you because I don’t like you.”
Lesson #1: “teacher” is the exact opposite of “cool.” This proved particularly true when I failed to master dance moves like the Wu-Tang and the D-Mack, despite repeated viewings of a YouTube video called “Ten Steps to the Perfect Wu-Tang.” It was a summer full of lessons.
I learned that scholars would do almost any activity if I promised to play Lil’ Wayne upon it’s completion. When Salimatou, a seventh grader, wrote “Sux that ur homeless!” on a care-package for a local shelter, I learned the importance of guidelines. On a tubing trip down the Delaware River, I learned the best way to pull 10 kids upstream to rescue a sneaker. I learned that fabric paint does not come out of clothes, even if you didn’t mean to paint them.
I learned about 12 kids who were up against difficult odds and watched them learn that they could be great; that people believed in them.
(03/19/09 4:12am)
Street: Of all the OTB-wannabes on campus, why did you make the cut?
Maggie Nyce: I have a nose ring.
Larry Crane-Moscowitz: I released my inner angsty emo kid from Jersey.
Max Glass: I sound like Johnny Cash.
Jess Leifer: I do a mean bass, which I showcased while doing a cover of Coolio’s “Gangsta’s Paradise.”
(02/26/09 4:57am)
For students who develop a Big Three inferiority complex as soon as acceptance letters roll in, the desire to perpetuate a “Work hard, play harder” Social Ivy image seems contradictory. Whether it’s double-fisting in the shower on Beta’s “State Day,” forgoing Pottruck and a Gia salad for a smoke sesh and a fried Oreo during Fling or pelting peers with Fresh Grocer’s stickiest fare on Hey Day, we use any excuse to experience college “the way it’s supposed to be.” As the traffic through Joseph Anthony’s tanning booths reaches peak volume and “Days ‘till CaNcUn” Facebook statuses dip into the single digits, the prime example of a desperate attempt at Penn-Gone-Wild is about to begin, just south of the border.
(02/26/09 4:26am)
Tight Knit has more in common with grass, Vetiver’s namesake, than front-man Andy Cabic could have ever hoped. Its almost imperceptible growth gets mowed down periodically. It’s best when there’s smoking involved. And — in a world where bearded men are doing the indie-Woodstock thing just across the fence — the other side is always greener. This fourth Vetiver project proves that having once-upon-a-time collaborated with Joanna Newsom and Devendra Banhart does not make you deserving of a freak-folk label. In fact, the only thing freaky about the album is the instant REM cycle induced by Cabic’s whispered falsetto, an unrelenting haziness and the fading in and out of each track.
(02/05/09 3:48am)
If Judy Garland had landed in Oz in 1960 instead of 1939, followed the yellow brick road straight to the local karaoke bar and requested something bluesy to ease her not-in-Kansas-anymore induced homesickness, the resulting sound would be that of Heartless Bastards’ The Mountain. Owing to a distinct, mature vocal tone (think Melissa Ethridge comes to Zooey Deschanel’s window) and a constantly changing line-up, Erika Wennerstrom truly is Heartless Bastards. The Mountain, the third album from this blues-rock trio (named after an incorrect answer on a Mega Touch quiz game reading “Tom Petty and the Heartless Bastards”), makes up in soulfulness what it lacks in creativity.
(01/22/09 2:07am)
Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavilion (MPP), which dropped so early in 2009 that we still had unbroken resolutions, has already been called the year’s best album. The buildup began as soon as the four tracks of the Water Curses EP (2008) got old, with the dramatic leak of “Brother Sport” in November, followed by a surprise listening party in Brooklyn, Panda Bear’s promise that it was Animal Collective’s best work to date, and the number of hours it took to decide whether the cover art was actually moving (it’s not!). When they finally got their advanced copies, even the harshest of critics found themselves wishing for more thumbs to put way up.
(11/20/08 8:44am)
Don’t let the less-than-awesome moniker fool you: this neighborhood above NoLibs is the coolest place you’ve never been. Bring your bike, which you can lock up on one of the sculptures in the ArtsRacks Program, cash (credit is so passé) and an appetite for good music and local, vegan food.
(11/20/08 8:18am)
This review might be coming a little late for those of you who heard Deerhunter’s Microcastle performed at a secret show in Brooklyn this April or when it was leaked in an excessively dramatic fashion in June. But for those who waited for the real thing — cover art, bonus Weird Era Cont. disc, legality and all — be sure to get your hands on it immediately. Microcastle, as promised by lead singer Bradford Cox (known for donning evening gowns and talking at length about his feelings in place of encores), is a completely different album than 2007’s Cryptograms. But, like your unborn, freakishly different twins, it is possible to love them both equally.
(11/20/08 8:17am)
1889: The first jukebox debuts at the Palais Royale Saloon in San Francisco.